Category Archives: Lord

Doing hard things – mourning and living

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Sitting by my grandma was always a cozy place

The rain that pounded on my window Saturday morning symbolized my heart. Something I have wanted to avoid and have long feared, had now come true. For the first time in my life, I awoke to being without my grandma. Tears have poured from my eyes for nearly a week and waking to this new reality was crushing.


Navigating through grief challenges us in the most basic of ways. What can we do to acknowledge our sadness but not paralyze daily living? How do we move forward in life while still honoring the memory of our loved one? Is it ok to still laugh and smile? 


So many of you can relate, I’m sure. Grief is complicated, isn’t it? 


Those torrents of rain granted me permission to stay in the house and do nothing but cry. But when the sun burst forth in the early afternoon, I knew I had two things to do. One was to go shopping for a dress for Ring Weekend, a very special celebration at West Point we will soon enjoy with our oldest OS. (stay tuned!)


And the other was not an task-related errand but something equally important. I had to go back to the swimming pool.

It’s hard to stay in the lane! 

My grandma was a fire-cracker, a whipper snapper, a kick in the pants kinda gal. She was a hard-headed, go-getter who didn’t let things keep her down for very long and I always admired those qualities.


So in honor of my grandma and because I believe the Lord has given me this summer to conquer my fears, I swam four laps. They were crooked and awkward. They were not exactly consecutive laps either. I did my own special version of what I believe you people call “breast stroke” and “back stroke.” During the back stroke, in the middle of the lap, I swam into the plastic lap divider rings. (I just realized I called them “lap” dividers not lane dividers, told you I was a swimming newbie!). Instead of just giving up, though, I found myself laughing, the Hubs nearby chuckled also. I’m exerting a tremendous amount of physical energy swimming because I don’t have all the movements synchronized. I’m aware of how silly I look but that is no longer a big concern. Considering all the sadness in my heart, it was a triumphant moment.

Then the perfunctory ten jumps into the deep end followed. The Hubs sat contentedly on the lounging chair as I began the task. Things were going well but then suddenly, while underwater, fear gripped me. I panicked and I doubted that I had enough air to make it safely to the side. The Hubs was reading a book, he had no idea. It was only after I grabbed the side of the pool that I was able to get his attention. From the poolside, I mouthed, “Hon, I’m struggling. I’m scared. I can’t do this. I’m done.”


Left to my own defenses, overwhelming grief combined with lack of confidence, I was ready to go home. Hadn’t I done enough, felt enough for one day? I didn’t see myself as a failure, I just felt like a grand-daughter mourning and that is part of what I am right now.


But the Hubs spurred me on. He said, “I’ll go in with you. Come on, let’s get back in the water.” With that, I returned to the water and not only did ten jumps into the deep end of the pool but I did an extra. The last one was for my grandma. I asked the Hubs to take a picture and yes, I’m crying while making a heart symbol. I will never forget you Grandma. Wherever I am, Grandma, I will carry you with me. 

I ❤ my grandma

I have no idea how I’m going to press on without one of the most significant people in my life but what choice do I have? Therefore I have to hope. Not in myself but in the power of Christ in me. It’s no accident that the Lord chose this summer to be a time of loss and gain. I know the Lord is changing me. 


I don’t really like this part of the process, it hurts like crud but I hear the voice of my grandma saying, “That’s great, Cin! I’m so proud of you!” she would giggle with delight. And I hear the voice of the Author of Life, my Sustainer, the Lifter of my head reminding me that “he who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it in Christ Jesus.”

Keep working on doing your own hard things. I am blessed by your prayers and comments.

Doing hard things – laughing

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Later tonight I will do my Wednesday remix. It’s a story I wrote about my grandma ten years ago. I had already selected it as something I wanted to share not knowing all this was going to happen…


But since writing is cathartic for me and my heart is straining with pain, I wished to share a tiny bright spot this morning.


Today was the first day of school for two of my OS. Aaron begins his senior year, Ike entered ninth grade. The orange hair, freckle face OS was crestfallen last night as he was trying on some pants for his school uniform. “Do these pants look too big?” he inquired, already knowing the answer. 


Since we do not encourage lying, I had no choice but to be completely honest. “Yes,” I erupted, then exhaled and released the giggle that had been developing from the moment he had slipped on the pants.


Starting your first day in high school as a freshman with big pants is hardly ideal so with the prospect that all the pants in his wardrobe were similarly sized, Ike went to bed grouchy and nervous.

As you can clearly see, Ike is not a chunky monkey. 

This morning, however, the Lord gave Ike (and me) an unexpected blessing. My youngest OS awakened me with good news. “I found a pair of slim pants!” he announced as he hugged me good morning. “I was afraid I was going to have to go to school looking like Chris Farley!” I breathed in the fresh dash of cologne around his neck. My mouth guards were still in place, my sleeping mask attractively matted to my forehead (lovely visual) but none of that prevented me from bursting into laughter! He was right, he did look like Chris Farley and if you know my orange hair, freckle face OS, that’s quite a stretch considering he has 0% body fat.

He has right,
he did kind of look like Chris Farley

It felt so nice to laugh because I also know my day will contain sadness. In fact, I was still in bed when I began crying and that’s how it’s going to be for a while, I guess. Later today, my sister will place the phone up to my grandma’s ear for me to speak to her. She is now in hospice. I do not expect to have a back and forth conversation with my beloved grandma and it’s quite possibly the final time I will say something to her this side of heaven. 


The ancient truths found in the chapter three of the book of Ecclesiastes still possess wisdom. 

“For everything there is a season, 
and a time for every matter under heaven: 
a time to be born, and a time to die; 
a time to weep and a time to laugh; 
a time to mourn, and a time to dance; 
a time to seek, and a time to lose
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak…” 
Aaron, my grandma and I at one of Isaac’s basketball games.
It was like an NBA game for her!

As many of you know, grief is a gritty process. This morning, however; I praise the Lord for the moments where I can feel His presence breaking through my sorrow. Today my joy came from a child named Isaac whose name means laughter. 

Doing hard things – out of love

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This is for you, dear grandma
We like each other…a lot

After Friday’s heartbreaking news, I’ve been afraid to return to the pool. Though I may look the same, my sentiments in almost every regard are altered. My grandma will not be getting better this side of heaven. I am not sure what to do. So I cry, I think about crying, I dry my face after crying and repeat. Feelings of overwhelming sorrow are mixed with tremendous gratefulness. My grandma has been in my life for nearly half a century, that is such a blessing. But gosh, I’m going to miss her. I will miss everything about her. Even the things that were less than perfect, she meant the world to me.

If only I could stay in that moment



My OS start school on Wednesday. Prior to the phone call about my grandma; days before, in fact, tears flowed thinking about them not being home. Now the impending loss of my grandmother looms near. I wanted to herald this summer as one of incredible memories. Difficulties pervade on where to put this latest news into my epic summer scenery.


Yet despite my heartache, the Hubs and I went to the pool. My spunky, kick-in-the-pants grandma would want this. 

So to honor her, I plunged into the water. As I came up for air, tears poured into my swim goggles which was a new experience…The salty pool water matched my salty tears. I had to empty the goggles out several times. The Hubs held me tight as I fell into his arms. I’m pretty sure I was the only person weeping in the water. 


As I see it, I have three options:
1. quit = give up (my grandma has always been a spitfire)
2. stagnate = no more progress (my grandma moved forward despite great losses)
or 
3. keep at it = trust in the Lord (my grandma would be proud of me)


A force, greater than myself (which I know to be my Savior), allowed me to do another thing today. Previously, as my orange hair, freckle face OS informed me, I frolicked off the diving board. But with the Hubs’ encouragement, I pushed myself off the surface and into the air with greater vigor. And I touched the bottom of the nine foot pool. That was also a first. And then, of course, I cried.

Thank you for your prayers and encouragement. Keep doing your own Hard Things, dear friends, even when it hurts.

When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.
Psalm 56:3

Doing hard things – an unexpected immensely hard thing

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Today was the first day I could return to the pool following elbow surgery. I awoke this morning and went straight from pajamas to bathing suit. Without too much grumbling, so did my orange hair, freckle face OS. Ike has become a trusty companion through this process even though he would drop me like a hot potato if one of his buddies wanted to hang out. I am blessed by his encouragement and company. 


Today was also the first day I jumped into the pool and my bottom touched the bottom of the pool. Ike demonstrated the technique and instead of mulling it over and fretting, I released caution to the wind and capered into the water. The next thing I knew my “biscuit” made contact with the pool floor. It was rather exciting, another accomplishment. Everything is new to me, I am treasuring each effort, taking nothing for granted.

I also did my ceremonious ten jumps into the deep end of the pool. A trace of fear wafted over me and I gulped a far amount of salty water. For an instant, my land tortoise ways were calling me back but I persevered. 

See that crazy lady in the middle?
That’s my grandma doing YMCA!



Being in the water, using my right arm, hoisting myself back to the poolside reassured me I was where I needed to be. I was doing my Hard Thing and I was pleased to get back to conquering this fear.

One of my first days as a grand-daughter,
it felt good right from the start. 



But a greater fear waited me at home. It was one that I wasn’t expecting but it has always loomed in the back of my mind. A message was waiting on my voicemail. It was from my sister and I immediately called her back to learn that our grandma is seriously ill. She was found in her apartment on the floor, motionless and disoriented. Grandma was quickly transported to the hospital. My precious grandma, one of my dearest friends, has dementia and lately her mental status has been deteriorating. She has also had a seizure while in the hospital. They are transporting her to another hospital, she is heavily sedated and although no one is saying she cannot recover as of yet, things are not looking promising. 

We took Grams to see The Sound of Music,
I loved hearing her humming the tunes.

For many years, I have been known as Cindy, a wife, mom, sister, aunt, niece, daughter, writer, friend and Christ-believer. For nearly half a century, I’ve also been Cindy, the non-swimmer who still had her grandma. I am ready to discard only one of these descriptions. The Lord knows I want to lose the non-swimmer label. It is the only description that has weighed me down. All the others lift me up and I have worn “Grand-daughter” as a badge of honor and joy. I am trusting in Him, whose ways are perfect but the tears still fall. My beloved grandma should not linger and suffer, but selfishly I wonder, what am I going to do? Suddenly swimming became easier than this…

Wednesday remix – no more land tortoises

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So sorry for the Wednesday remix delay. I knew what I wanted to post and it was a matter of scanning the pics, etc. which always takes longer than usual.

Can you say ouch? I can. 

On a side note, I’m having elbow surgery on Wednesday. It’s not major surgery but it might delay some posting since it’s my right arm, my “writing arm.” Time permitting, I might create some advance posts in the interim.


But back to the remix… Tonight I offer my post in honor of my oldest OS who spent two weeks in El Salvador with his bonita and two weeks with the fam this summer. With all that he has accomplished as a young man, Nate has embodied the Romans 8:37 spirit in being “more than a conqueror” in so many ways. By his example, Nathan has shown me how to Do Hard Things. In recognition of our collective swimming accomplishments both past and present, behold my toe-headed boy back in 1995. 

Nearly all known floatation devices were employed. 
The only kid on the swim team with the works. No shame. 
This is sweetest sugar boy I’ve ever seen in the pool!



There is nothing more precious or inspiring than seeing your child doing something you, yourself cannot do. Replete with floaties, nose plugs, swimming goggles and a noodle, that boy persevered. He didn’t worry about how he looked, my OS just wanted to stay alive during the swim meet! Cheering from the pool side, I was crazy proud of him!

As you can see, Nate didn’t inherit his daddy’s natural love of water. At least for a short while, my OS possessed his mama’s land tortoise qualities. 


Go Nate, go! You can doey it! He has come a long way as a cadet at West Point since completing survivor swimming his yuk year. 


Then in a strange twist of genetics, I believe that this summer, I came to inherit his determination. 


Oh and I can barely believe what I’m about to tell you! It’s no coincidence that AT THE SAME POOL, I jumped again into the deep end of the pool with even less forethought. And then although lacking any semblance of finesse, I stepped/jumped off the diving board 15 times yesterday. Here’s the amazing footage and it’s ok if you laugh, just keep it to yourself. Every time I see this video, I feel incredibly embarrassed and joyful. My youngest OS informed me that I “frolicked” off the diving board. Kids these days…

Years separated our victories but we have broken through barriers. Nate was one of my heroes when he was five and will always be as a man, son and Soldier. 

Thank you, dear readers for your messages both public and private. Keep doing your own hard things, if I can do it, so can you by the power of the Lord. 

Doing hard things – the diving board

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I jumped!

Interrupting my scheduled post about swimming to bring you the latest development in achieving aquatic greatness… on Saturday, for the first time in my life, I jumped off the diving board!!!


This journey began in 1985 when the Hubs and I were dating. He told me he would teach me how to swim. There was a pool in the apartment complex where I lived and occasionally we went there. He soon discovered I was a reluctant learner but it was the beginning of my journey to overcome my fear. I knew he was the one for me because he didn’t let me drown. He was someone I could trust implicitly.  


With great coaxing and reassurance, a few times, I leaped into the deep end of the pool where my boyfriend (now the Hubs) was waiting with open arms. 


It was such a significant moment, I decided to express the moment in a painting. My desire was to depict two feet in mid-air, no longer tethered by a sturdy, secure surface (a diving board) and not yet hitting the water. That fraction of a second when one completely trusts carried great symbolism for me. 

this diving board has intimidated me for too long

I never finished that painting. I’m not really an artist either so honestly it wasn’t great. Last year, after spending decades lugging the picture to new homes only to shove it in a closet, I threw the unfinished painting into the trash. There was no point hanging on to that picture. I possessed a mediocre unfinished drawing depicting a skill I had never accomplished. Who needs another reminder of failure? Um, not me.

“Whatchoo talkin’ ’bout Willis???”

Fast forward to July 9, 2011…we went to our neighborhood pool Saturday and the Hubs encouraged me to jump off the diving board. Through my trusty swim goggles, I gave him my best “Whatchoo talkin’ bout Willis???” face and hopped out of the pool. 


The next thing I knew I was on the diving board plank and a second later, I was in the water. Then I swam to the side of the pool which I did for the first time in my life. I didn’t drown or flounder. This was another breakthrough. 

“Did I look like a normal person doing that?”

Afterward, on land, I whispered and asked the Hubs, “Be honest with me, did I look like a normal person doing that?” I have pink highlights in my hair and a henna tattoo on my arm yet I completely believed him when he nodded and said yes. I’m married to an awesome man. 
My goal is for this to be a normal occurrence. Is it possible for me to fearlessly swim and not think twice about it? I pray, I really do, for the day when I’m as comfortable on a pool slide or diving board (not diving!) as I am in the kitchen. I have no hesitation to try a new recipe and can usually handle a culinary mistake. 


Torpor has robbed me of memories, I’m ready as it says in Romans 8:37 to be “more than a conqueror” especially as it pertains to swimming. 

I need to do this again and again until it no longer scares me. 



I no longer have that unfinished artwork.  Instead I have a new canvas. Perhaps I never completed that painting because I was relying on my own strength and not the Lord’s.  This time it will be better than the original. 

Aquatic greatness 😉

And it will be created, dear friends, not with brush strokes but with swimming strokes.  I’m making progress. This was an epic event! Thanks again for your encouraging words.    

And the winner is…

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Ashley was sincerely excited when I told her the news! Here’s what she picked. Yay!

“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.”



I wasn’t sure if I should do a give-away. Particularly with the “prize” being something I made. What if no one commented on my post or fb? 


Talk about petty worries. Seriously. But my feeble mind easily goes “there.” That insidious place of doubt, shame and exposure. It’s raw, vulnerable and oh so real. My orange hair, freckle-face OS does this (not about a blog but about a brother) and it’s a sure-fire sign he’s heading for trouble.


When his sentence starts with, “Well, Aaron…” Ike is cruising for a bruising. Whatever proceeds those two words spells problems for my 14 year old. Even with a verbal caution from a parent, he is so resolute on seeing injustice and unfairly judging a situation, Ike can’t see things clearly. 


His mama has the same problem…and not just with a silly blog either. Those thoughts which cause my spirit to be as thin as an onion skin, they are not from someone who loves me. They are from the Prince of Lies, the Enemy, Satan. He wants me to feel defeated and despondent about everything.


But he’s wrong. He’s a jerk and he wants to invade every aspect of my life. But he can’t because I’m

“For everyone who has been born of God overcomes the world.
And this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith.”



He doesn’t have the final word on my life. 










And so I must remember this… I am a

“For you are all children of light, children of the day.
We are not of the night or of the darkness.” 
and
“For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily,
and you have been filled in him, who is the head of all rule and authority.”
Through none of my efforts or talents but only because of the Lord’s grace, I am furthermore…
“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”
Thanks to everyone for participating! It meant a lot to me! Encouraging words bless me. Also, thanks to God for His ageless reminders and timeless truth!

Wednesday remix – the awesome sound of "Mom"

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I wrote this for a MOPS newsletter 10 years ago. Hope you enjoy!
Also, there is still time to enter my first give-away. Just comment on this post or this one and you’ll be entered to win!

I look out the window and in the midst of barren trees and gray roads, I see two figures heading my way. Backpacks loaded with homework, books, notes from teachers; these two little people; one with a FSU baseball cap, the other with a stick in his hand turn onto my street. They head up my driveway, they open my door and they cheerfully say, “Hi, Mom!”

Nate and sister Denise at an FSU game!

This is how I often experience the world around 2:30 PM Monday through Friday. You’d think I’d be used to my boys calling me “Mom,” after all, I’ve been one almost for 11 years. But it still blows me away. I’m still overwhelmed each time my boys put their arms around me, then reluctantly give or receive a kiss. They utter the short mono-syllabic word “Mom” while actually looking at me and I melt like butter.


How’d it happen? The crazy college days, the year in France, they are ancient memories for me. How did it happen that the Lord chose me to be a parent? Surely He’s observed my foolishness. In fact, God could write a book about all the regrettable things I have done. However, in my book of life, the Lord has chosen to erase my mistakes and forgive my sins. In their place, God has filled those pages with infinite memories of these extraordinary creations.

working it in France circa 1982



In His mercy and compassion, He gave me the three greatest sons I could have ever possibly imagined! The big belly housing their tiny lives is gone but they, my boys have remained. Amazing! 

There’s a lot of orange going on up in hur!

And as if that weren’t enough, all I have to do is glance at Isaac’s red hair and my mouth wants to drop open. I never expected a redhead, what a blessing. When God made Isaac, He gave me a delightful surprise and a nifty conversation piece. I can’t tell you how many people have asked us how Ike got that copper mop on his head. 


I’m their mom. I helped create them. The Lord has loaned them to my husband and me with big expectations of leading our sons to love Him. How cool and incredible is that? And in addition, for a season, the Lord has allowed me the honor of sharing these experiences with you. 


I realize that some of you who read this can only dream of the day when your baby with her/his own lips speaks the sweet pronoun “Mommy” while in your arms. Those long, sleepless nights, the ear infections, teething, temper tantrums can be so exhausting but it’s all worth it when you hear that little voice acknowledge you as Mother.

one of their favorite past-times = fishing

The lovely melody of this small word is such a treasure and a gift. Whether your child is cooing and crawling or chatting all the way to pre-school, it’s true, you are a mother. Press that unbelievable title upon your heart and give thanks.

A Gift to Me, A Gift to You – give away!

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He took me by the hand and escorted me to the garage. Tentatively I placed one foot after the other, trusting that whatever I would soon behold was worth the risk. We traipsed through the laundry room, a rather treacherous endeavor and descended a few steps at the entrance of the garage. No bone had been broken, so far so good.

“Open your eyes, Mama,” Aaron granted my eyes permission to do one of their primary jobs. Three plants stood before me, bursting forth with blossoms.
 
“I drive past this garden store every day while going to school and I knew I wanted to buy your Mother’s Day present from there. After I finished mowing a lawn today, I went there and got you these.”
 
I was reminded of the cubic zirconia earrings Aaron gave me one Christmas when he was a little boy. Oh, how he beamed with pride as he handed me the little box. Upon opening the gift, I observed two absolutely HUGE cubic zirconia earrings with an equally flashy matching pendant. Where does a middle class mama wear such bling? Many years later, I still do not know but should I ever need to make a VERY bold statement, those baubles will be put to good use.
 
Thankfully, Aaron’s tastes have matured. Here is proof…
 

The three gifts my middle OS gave me!
Do you know what the plant is called? Tell me in the comment section of my blog
and I’ll enter your name into my giveaway TWICE! 

another rather exotic flower with orange flowers (neither of us remember the name)

I love any shade of purple therefore I love these!

and petunias and fan flowers

When my middle OS approached the clerk at the garden store, he announced he was buying some plants for his mother. The lady was so touched by his kindness, she added additional flowers into the planter.
 
She was not the only one to react to my son’s inquiry. Apparently a rather corpulent young lady also overheard Aaron’s conversation and began following my OS around the store perimeter. Creepy.
 
What I love about Aaron’s efforts is the sincerity of his quest. I love that he did not choose the fancy garden store just down the road, instead he sought the simple, understated establishment. I have also driven by this store and nary given it a second thought. He blessed me and the garden store owner with equal measure. A generosity of heart is one of Aaron’s most lovely qualities.
 
The rain has been gushing for days. I look at my plants in the garden through the large windows in our family room. They are verdant and sturdy, confident and acclimating well to their new environs. I’m in awe at how well they fit into the landscape. I can’t help but think of my boy with each glance at my astilbe and its companion flower. It’s as if they want to blossom with pride at being selected by Aaron and they want to do their job to the best of their ability.
 
If plants had feelings, and some posit that they do, I would have to say Aaron’s selections are utterly joyous in their new home. It’s as if they blossom with pride at being selected by Aaron and they want to do their job to the best of their ability.

Here are several examples of the miniature pillows I create. They are sweet on a window
sill or placed anywhere someone could use a word of encouragement. 

I‘ve been sharing about the gifts I received for Mother‘s Day. Now it‘s your turn to share. What is the best Mother’s Day gift you have given or received? I’d love to know! 
 
I thought it would be fun to offer my first giveaway. Write a comment on my facebook about this post or write it directly this blog and you’ll be entered to win a free homemade encouragement pillow. Also, if you answer the question in my post about the type of flower Aaron gave me, I’ll enter your name twice. We can’t remember the name of it so maybe you can help us figure it out. Deadline will be Friday, May 20 at 5pm EST. 

Friday, it’s Friday

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Soon, very soon, I will be singing this song.

Oh, how I have been counting the hours until Friday…you have no idea.

Since taking Financial Peace University, I have been learning things about money and myself. Sometimes I’m just learning about money. Other lessons pierce my heart. Usually both happen, I feel smarter about financial decisions and more convicted about my own spending habits. 

Oh yeah

With this new system of budgeting, we have an allotted amount of money for things. When the money is gone, it’s gone. I have never lived this way and it’s a struggle. Denying oneself of the things SHE wants or needs is my Achilles heel. I want what I want when I want it, especially when it comes to food. I’m do not have an eating disorder, we are all within normal weight guidelines but food is my weakness. I like to cook, I REALLY like creating healthy meals. What is wrong with that???

Working in a soup kitchen in a poor village in Peru

Um, I can answer that question. When you spend too much money on groceries and you throw away food, that is a problem. When you have gone to third-world countries and really seen hungry people, trust me, pangs of shame pervade your spirit. I have despaired over my wastefulness and lack of culinary creativity. I have felt embarrassed bringing in bags of groceries when the refrigerator was already full. It’s like I’m never satisfied and I really beat myself up afterward. 

My fridge and freezer are emptier than they’ve been in ages. 

I’ve always been able to justify my food spending. I don’t wear lavish clothing, I’ve had a manicure maybe twice in my life, we don’t live in a mansion. My indulgence is food. The Hubs knew better than to question GROCERIES! Hrmph! Did he want us eating JUNK? Did he want us to starve? Just keepin’ it real.

But the Lord is doing a new thing and when the money for groceries ran out this week, I didn’t run out to the store or farmer’s market. What a battle with my flesh to not go and get some food staples! Instead we have been surviving on what we have in our cupboards, freezer and fridge. No one is starving. No one is deprived. I live with a sweet and generous husband who isn’t a tyrant. If I wanted to go to the store and buy bananas, asparagus, flour, quinoa, sweet potatoes, firm tofu, carrots, kiwi, agave nectar, applesauce, butternut squash, rice milk, mozzarella cheese, onions, lettuce, cinnamon, milk, kale, aluminum foil, pineapples, wakame seaweed, etc., etc. (can you notice the zeal with which I wrote this list???)  I could have done that. 

It’s obvious Dawn dishwashing liquid is DEFINITELY on my list!

But this has been between the Lord and me. Not the Hubs and I. And oh how I have valued being in contact with like-minded women via blogs like Lizzie, and Mary and Jenn and Julia along with facebook, phone and just regular fellowship. YOU have blessed me and fed me in ways the food couldn’t. Thank you. 

I have about a tablespoon of gas in my car. Not complaining, just waiting until FRIDAY!!!!

God has been telling me to hang on until Friday. And with great confidence, He’s promised me that this isn’t going to be an April Fool’s Day joke with Him. He has been saying, “Girl, I got you. I am providing. Let me do this.”

I believe every word of this apron I made.

I’m still going to write my “obituary” but I just had to share. Can you relate?